Post by Eisbaer on Nov 3, 2016 19:18:40 GMT
[attr="class","roadhead"]호랑이에게 물려가도 정신만 차리면 산다
[attr="class","Agarrar"]
Unlike most people, Constance's biggest concern was not that she was teleported into a game, missing out on the romantic entanglements of her favorite K-drama, or the potential loss of high paying clients and jobs. No; she was far too busy fussing over her choice of a character name. "Eisbaer" seemed like a good idea in theory, and matched well with the European appearance of her character. It was a somewhat hasty selection, as her other options were no longer available. Had she actually taken the time to think about it, however, she could have thought up something less…unwieldy? But definitely not the German term for polar bear.
Areum, Letha, Leticia…names that actually sounded like names, and not that of a lonely old woman who lived with bears. But no. Now she had to adjust to being referred to as anything but her given name. She never gave out her name to random people in games or the internet in general, though was willing to make an exception here. If she was going to be partying up with the same people on a daily basis, the woman would prefer Constance or even Connie (she shuddered at the thought) to Eisbaer.
Some games had an option to change your username, but Elder Tale did not appear to have that option. Or not in this world, at least. She sighed softly to herself, dropping her gaze to the smol pupper trailing along in her wake. It was some kind of…pet. The cute kind people acquire from cash shops just to feel special. It was of no real use to her as anything other than a companion, and even then she preferred the company of her Alraune. Dogs were not her jam.
But becoming better acquainted with this world was. That was her reason for coming out here today, with this freshly made sword from an NPC. Constance once received a sword cane as a bit of a joke, though aside from practical use never used it much. It was a novelty, at best. Her older cane served best for everyday use.
Out in the field, alone, she was starting to have some second choices about her choice in gear and skills. Had she known she'd be on her own for a while, the wolf pup would've been a better choice than her cute flower girl. Far too late to complain now, of course.
Just outside the safety of Londinium's gates, Constance sought to make bunnies her enemies of choice. They were docile little things, unlike the boars which would turn on you in an instant. She spoke not from experience, but what she'd seen and heard with her own ears and eyes. Players were still people, and people loved to spread gossip or idle chatter. That was how she was doing much of her research on the land so far. The woman even possessed a shoddy mess of papers arranged into a journal of sorts, where all her notes were kept. Some contained information on the simpler monsters, others on her class findings and general needs.
Even the act of walking was remarkable. She was lucky to have modelled her character loosely after herself, and not a hulking giant or tiny werecat. Many people with drastically different body types struggled just to stay aloft, though Constance could safely count herself out of that one. Her only inhibitor was her bad ankle, which she was used to babying and keeping full weight off. Those first few steps unnerved her; rather than experience the usual twinge of pain, there was nothing…aside from her own paranoia. She was still adapting to the new sensation of walking and would very much appreciate a staff to lean on from time to time, but for now she was content.
Fenrir yapped at something wiggling in the underbrush. It was too small to be a boar, so she assumed it was one of those rabbits she sought to throttle. The bold pupper's behavior gave her that impression, for not even he would be crazy enough to harass a boar (and hopefully not one of those vile slimes). Constance readied her sword, her stance unsophisticated and no doubt shaming her ancestors, wielders of the Ssangsoodo. When the dog's pounce produced the quivering bottom of a brown rabbit, she swung.
And she missed.
Her blade stabbed into grass and dirt, missing the rabbit by several inches. Fenrir went tumbling into a mess of pixels as the rabbit turned against the useless pet wolf. He would reappear in her inventory later, to sit and think about his poorly thought out actions. The rabbit, free of one tormentor, turned to glare at the remaining. Faint as it might be, she could sense the hostility in its cute little stare. What was it going to do, fight her?
The rabbit did not attempt to make a run for her. It appeared to be sort of inching along, strong hind legs tensed to break into a sprint at the slightest sight of trouble. Constance awkwardly followed along, equally slow. Dirt and bits of green tarnished the end of her borrowed blade. She kept the one handed blade clasped between her hands, just as eager to dart forth and stick the rabbit with the pointy end.
The rabbit made the first (and last) move. Constance, wielding the weapon in such a way that would make any swordsman cringe, practically threw the blade at the small creature. The poor rabbit screamed, more out of indignation than actual pain or fear. It was pissed that it had been caught, pissed at the woman for crushing its spine and therefore crippling it, and pissed still at the blade digging sharply into its flesh. The sword was fairly sharp, though not sharp enough to put immediately put the rabbit out of its misery.
Constance lacked the Tongue of Nature skill, so the rabbit's slew of curses sounded like nothing more than a series of frantic squeaks. "Kill me, you mangy mutt! Just get it over with already, ye big gaping slobber hound! Tear me asunder in front of my kittens, devourer of rubbish bins!" It made a show of crawling away, hind legs trailing pitifully behind it. "I'll piss on yer grave, you hear me?! Sir Aeonium shall have his revenge! Not in this life, but the next--"
The woman cut off the nonsense spewing rabbit with the broadside of her sword. Spittle flew from the rabbit's lips as it was sent tumbling several feet into the air and across the way. It landed with a heavy thump and lie there, twitching in pure unadulterated rage. "Well? YOU COWARD! I'll rip yer arms out like dandelions!" It flailed its front paws in the air, a miniature boxer not yet down for the count.
It was quite the sight to see. The poor little bunny was surely in agony, so Constance moved to put it out of its misery. She stabbed down into its body, turning the blade this way and that to further decimate its health. It took a little longer than she would have liked; the point of the sword was sharp enough, but it was clear it could use some fine tuning. If she was struggling just to put a solitary rabbit to a permanent slumber, surely it would not fare any better against a boar. She saw no need to harass other beasties for a comparison either, and so headed back into town.
Constance was none too eager to point out the shabbiness of the blade to its crafter. Reyla was quite the handful, NPC status aside. So she put on her poker face before stepping into the shop, and gave the sword hanging from her hip a soft pat. But before she could so much as open her mouth, another called out from somewhere in the far back. "Oy, love. I'm not taking requests right now. I've got my mind set on milking out my creative juices! You see, there's this werecat-- oh, I won't bore you with the details!"
The woman wasn't yet at her forge, but from where Constance could see, busy sketching something on a piece of parchment. "Reyla, it's me. Constance? You hired me to test out the sword--"
"Oh, yeah! You're the wolf hair broad with the big--" She briefly held her hands up in the air, pantomiming holding onto a round object. "Need me a girl like that to advertise my shop. I bet the guys love you, eh? Maybe a few of the girls too, huh?" Reyla laughed, dropping her hands back onto your desk. "But enough of that. How'd you like the blade? It's fantastic, right? Tell me it's fantastic."
"I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, Reyla, but…" She couldn't just outright say it was a sh!tty blade. Even now, she could see that dangerous glint in the smith's eye. Constance did not any players with the smithing class, so she could not afford to piss off her one life line. Wooden weapons were her ultimate go to, but you never know when you'd need a good, sharp blade. "It's um…it's a little dull, is all. Just needs to be sharpened."
Reyla's regarded Constance with cold, steely eyes. "How is the balance?"
"It's good, I think. I've never held a sword before, but I was able to use this one. Wasn't too heavy or light, as far as I'm concerned." It was the truth. The sword would be great for slaughtering, once it was toned up a notch. "I manage to take down a rabbit, but it wasn't easy. I don't know if it's this world or not, but I feel like an earth bunny would die almost instantly n earth bunny would die almost instantly if I stabbed it. Here, it floundered around for far too long."
"Hmph. I should have known better than to entrust the sword to a noob, but…" She sighed and tilted her head to the side. "Maybe the blade is a little dull. I didn't see the point in going all out because I was still unsure. And it was suited for someone of your level…Fine, hand it on over and I'll handle the rest."
Constance handed over the sword and received her payment, the value of which she could not fully appreciate. It seemed so…little, but then the task itself was only a simple experiment. She backed away from Reyla, who was growing absorbed in her examination of the blade. Woo, experience…now to find something better to do.
∝: 1766
✏: ---
@: Eisbaer
Unlike most people, Constance's biggest concern was not that she was teleported into a game, missing out on the romantic entanglements of her favorite K-drama, or the potential loss of high paying clients and jobs. No; she was far too busy fussing over her choice of a character name. "Eisbaer" seemed like a good idea in theory, and matched well with the European appearance of her character. It was a somewhat hasty selection, as her other options were no longer available. Had she actually taken the time to think about it, however, she could have thought up something less…unwieldy? But definitely not the German term for polar bear.Areum, Letha, Leticia…names that actually sounded like names, and not that of a lonely old woman who lived with bears. But no. Now she had to adjust to being referred to as anything but her given name. She never gave out her name to random people in games or the internet in general, though was willing to make an exception here. If she was going to be partying up with the same people on a daily basis, the woman would prefer Constance or even Connie (she shuddered at the thought) to Eisbaer.
Some games had an option to change your username, but Elder Tale did not appear to have that option. Or not in this world, at least. She sighed softly to herself, dropping her gaze to the smol pupper trailing along in her wake. It was some kind of…pet. The cute kind people acquire from cash shops just to feel special. It was of no real use to her as anything other than a companion, and even then she preferred the company of her Alraune. Dogs were not her jam.
But becoming better acquainted with this world was. That was her reason for coming out here today, with this freshly made sword from an NPC. Constance once received a sword cane as a bit of a joke, though aside from practical use never used it much. It was a novelty, at best. Her older cane served best for everyday use.
Out in the field, alone, she was starting to have some second choices about her choice in gear and skills. Had she known she'd be on her own for a while, the wolf pup would've been a better choice than her cute flower girl. Far too late to complain now, of course.
Just outside the safety of Londinium's gates, Constance sought to make bunnies her enemies of choice. They were docile little things, unlike the boars which would turn on you in an instant. She spoke not from experience, but what she'd seen and heard with her own ears and eyes. Players were still people, and people loved to spread gossip or idle chatter. That was how she was doing much of her research on the land so far. The woman even possessed a shoddy mess of papers arranged into a journal of sorts, where all her notes were kept. Some contained information on the simpler monsters, others on her class findings and general needs.
Even the act of walking was remarkable. She was lucky to have modelled her character loosely after herself, and not a hulking giant or tiny werecat. Many people with drastically different body types struggled just to stay aloft, though Constance could safely count herself out of that one. Her only inhibitor was her bad ankle, which she was used to babying and keeping full weight off. Those first few steps unnerved her; rather than experience the usual twinge of pain, there was nothing…aside from her own paranoia. She was still adapting to the new sensation of walking and would very much appreciate a staff to lean on from time to time, but for now she was content.
Fenrir yapped at something wiggling in the underbrush. It was too small to be a boar, so she assumed it was one of those rabbits she sought to throttle. The bold pupper's behavior gave her that impression, for not even he would be crazy enough to harass a boar (and hopefully not one of those vile slimes). Constance readied her sword, her stance unsophisticated and no doubt shaming her ancestors, wielders of the Ssangsoodo. When the dog's pounce produced the quivering bottom of a brown rabbit, she swung.
And she missed.
Her blade stabbed into grass and dirt, missing the rabbit by several inches. Fenrir went tumbling into a mess of pixels as the rabbit turned against the useless pet wolf. He would reappear in her inventory later, to sit and think about his poorly thought out actions. The rabbit, free of one tormentor, turned to glare at the remaining. Faint as it might be, she could sense the hostility in its cute little stare. What was it going to do, fight her?
The rabbit did not attempt to make a run for her. It appeared to be sort of inching along, strong hind legs tensed to break into a sprint at the slightest sight of trouble. Constance awkwardly followed along, equally slow. Dirt and bits of green tarnished the end of her borrowed blade. She kept the one handed blade clasped between her hands, just as eager to dart forth and stick the rabbit with the pointy end.
The rabbit made the first (and last) move. Constance, wielding the weapon in such a way that would make any swordsman cringe, practically threw the blade at the small creature. The poor rabbit screamed, more out of indignation than actual pain or fear. It was pissed that it had been caught, pissed at the woman for crushing its spine and therefore crippling it, and pissed still at the blade digging sharply into its flesh. The sword was fairly sharp, though not sharp enough to put immediately put the rabbit out of its misery.
Constance lacked the Tongue of Nature skill, so the rabbit's slew of curses sounded like nothing more than a series of frantic squeaks. "Kill me, you mangy mutt! Just get it over with already, ye big gaping slobber hound! Tear me asunder in front of my kittens, devourer of rubbish bins!" It made a show of crawling away, hind legs trailing pitifully behind it. "I'll piss on yer grave, you hear me?! Sir Aeonium shall have his revenge! Not in this life, but the next--"
The woman cut off the nonsense spewing rabbit with the broadside of her sword. Spittle flew from the rabbit's lips as it was sent tumbling several feet into the air and across the way. It landed with a heavy thump and lie there, twitching in pure unadulterated rage. "Well? YOU COWARD! I'll rip yer arms out like dandelions!" It flailed its front paws in the air, a miniature boxer not yet down for the count.
It was quite the sight to see. The poor little bunny was surely in agony, so Constance moved to put it out of its misery. She stabbed down into its body, turning the blade this way and that to further decimate its health. It took a little longer than she would have liked; the point of the sword was sharp enough, but it was clear it could use some fine tuning. If she was struggling just to put a solitary rabbit to a permanent slumber, surely it would not fare any better against a boar. She saw no need to harass other beasties for a comparison either, and so headed back into town.
Constance was none too eager to point out the shabbiness of the blade to its crafter. Reyla was quite the handful, NPC status aside. So she put on her poker face before stepping into the shop, and gave the sword hanging from her hip a soft pat. But before she could so much as open her mouth, another called out from somewhere in the far back. "Oy, love. I'm not taking requests right now. I've got my mind set on milking out my creative juices! You see, there's this werecat-- oh, I won't bore you with the details!"
The woman wasn't yet at her forge, but from where Constance could see, busy sketching something on a piece of parchment. "Reyla, it's me. Constance? You hired me to test out the sword--"
"Oh, yeah! You're the wolf hair broad with the big--" She briefly held her hands up in the air, pantomiming holding onto a round object. "Need me a girl like that to advertise my shop. I bet the guys love you, eh? Maybe a few of the girls too, huh?" Reyla laughed, dropping her hands back onto your desk. "But enough of that. How'd you like the blade? It's fantastic, right? Tell me it's fantastic."
"I don't mean to be the bearer of bad news, Reyla, but…" She couldn't just outright say it was a sh!tty blade. Even now, she could see that dangerous glint in the smith's eye. Constance did not any players with the smithing class, so she could not afford to piss off her one life line. Wooden weapons were her ultimate go to, but you never know when you'd need a good, sharp blade. "It's um…it's a little dull, is all. Just needs to be sharpened."
Reyla's regarded Constance with cold, steely eyes. "How is the balance?"
"It's good, I think. I've never held a sword before, but I was able to use this one. Wasn't too heavy or light, as far as I'm concerned." It was the truth. The sword would be great for slaughtering, once it was toned up a notch. "I manage to take down a rabbit, but it wasn't easy. I don't know if it's this world or not, but I feel like an earth bunny would die almost instantly n earth bunny would die almost instantly if I stabbed it. Here, it floundered around for far too long."
"Hmph. I should have known better than to entrust the sword to a noob, but…" She sighed and tilted her head to the side. "Maybe the blade is a little dull. I didn't see the point in going all out because I was still unsure. And it was suited for someone of your level…Fine, hand it on over and I'll handle the rest."
Constance handed over the sword and received her payment, the value of which she could not fully appreciate. It seemed so…little, but then the task itself was only a simple experiment. She backed away from Reyla, who was growing absorbed in her examination of the blade. Woo, experience…now to find something better to do.
∝: 1766
✏: ---
@: Eisbaer
瑤光
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